Dangerous & Deadly- The Nick Myers Series

by Tanya R. Taylor

  After leaving the neighborhood, Nick cruised around for a little more than an hour just trying to mentally connect the widely scattered details he had compiled on the three unsolved murder cases. His mind was too congested for sleep. He knew it would not soon come.

  SEVEN

  He got very little sleep the night before, but Nick arrived at work early as usual the following morning. He was hailed a super cop by his colleagues - working sixteen to eighteen hours each day and returning to work hours ahead of his scheduled time each morning. He never ate breakfast, often made time for coffee after lunch, and despite his apparent body-badgering, his brain still clicked like clockwork – he observed everything and overlooked nothing. No other detective in the precinct was more highly regarded than he.

  As he walked toward his cubicle, he was shocked to meet Lou there so early sipping coffee with his feet perched on Tony’s desk. “Couldn’t sleep last night?” He asked smiling.

  “Na... and I have a feeling neither could you,” Lou smiled back. Nick retreated to his desk where he immediately began reviewing the notes he had scribbled down the night before:-

  WHITE MALE, DARK BROWN OR BLACK HAIR, AROUND SIX FEET TALL, WEARING BLUE JEANS AND BLACK JACKET WITH A HOOD.

  Staring up at him was everything he needed other than a description of the suspect's face.

  ‘It was vague,’ he remembered Joe-Boy saying. Vague. Was it that vague that the kid wouldn't recognize the suspect from some mug shots? Nick wondered. He wished he would have put the idea to Joe-Boy the night before. He knew then for sure that he had to speak with him again.

  “Hey, Guy, Chief wants to see us pronto,” Lou said in front of him.

  “Just as I expected,” Nick replied, grabbing his coat. As they walked toward Tuyler’s office, Lou asked, “The kid said much?”

  “Just about everything I needed to hear except a clear description of the suspect's face. He said it was vague.”

  “Vague? Shucks!” Lou muttered as they arrived at the Chief’s office.

  “Shut the door and have a seat, will ya?” Chief Tuyler said to them as he smoked a cigar. Tuyler was short and pudgy, and like Lou, of Italian heritage. He loved cigars, though it was evident by his constant coughing and choking, that they did not return the sentiment.

  “How's the case going?” He asked bluntly. “Any suspects yet?”

  “We’re looking into a few things right now, Chief,” Lou initiated the response. “So far, though, we’re still just looking.”

  “You’ve got nothing,” Tuyler plonked himself down into his armchair. “Isn’t that what you're saying to me, Riley?” His grimace was most familiar.

  “We do have a potential witness in the Clare Moore case,” Nick interjected.

  “Credible?”

  Nick leaned slightly forward. “I'd say he's credible, sir. He was able to give us a brief description of a man he claimed to have seen Miss Moore with the night she disappeared. Unfortunately though, since it was dark out, he wasn’t able to see the suspect’s face clearly. He said it was vague. He was, however, able to give a pretty good description of the clothing the suspect wore, his height, hair, complexion...”

  “So, you've got nothing, Myers. Wouldn't that be a suitable summation of what you just said?”

  “I wouldn't say that, sir. I believe it’s a start, at least,” Nick said with some newly found optimism. “If we are able to speak with this witness again, he might be able to identify the suspect by means of mug shots or recall some details that could further help the case.”

  Tuyler felt a sudden tickling in his throat and retrieved a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. “Let me make sure I got this. Did this fella say he couldn’t remember the suspect’s face, or did he simply say that it was vague?

  “He said it was vague, sir,” Nick answered.

  Tuyler started coughing uncontrollably, then a few moments later, settled down. “All right. Do what you gotta do, but notify me the minute something pops up. I got a strong feeling the Mayor’s gonna pay me a visit real soon.”

  As the detectives were leaving, Tuyler sat puffing and choking on his stubby cigar.

  * * * *

  By mid-morning, Nick and Lou were en route to Crenshaw. The detectives and other officers had initially spent hours interrogating persons that lived in the vicinity where Clare Moore's body was found, as well as the area she was reportedly last seen alive. Nick, however, had a nagging feeling that all had not been told.

  A young married couple reported that they had, in fact, seen Clare walking alone earlier the evening of the day in question. Several men parked on a graffitied wall at the end of the block swore they were doing the exact same thing the night Clare vanished, from early afternoon until around two the following morning. They denied having seen her at all during that time-frame. In essence, the detectives uncovered nothing to support Joe-Boy's story of the events of that night, but Nick remained convinced that the teenager had been truthful.

  While in the neighborhood, Nick and Lou attempted to find out where Joe-Boy resided or at least of his whereabouts, but the code of the streets prevailed. No one claimed to know him or to have even heard of anyone by that name.

  “Seems like our last hope is Miss Larson,” Lou suggested as they hopped into the Buick. “Know where she lives?”

  “Yeah. Right opposite the Moore lady’s residence,” Nick replied. “She mentioned it when she came to the station the first time, remember?”

  Nick gathered from Lou’s puzzled look that he did not recall, so he quietly cranked the engine and headed that way. As they drove, he inwardly prayed for answers that would help solve the recent homicides they were working. Yet in the back of his mind, a soft voice pronounced that the answers were a far way off.

  Edith Larson’s house was a small, yellow and white brick structure enclosed by a chain-link fence. A wrecked car was parked outside the fence a few feet off the road. Nick pulled up behind it. The detectives made way to the porch and Nick rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, he knocked.

  “You fellas looking for Eadie?” An elderly, colored man, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch next door asked.

  “Yes, we are. Do you know if she's at home, sir?” Nick inquired, approaching the edge of the porch near the fence.

  The man leaned forward in his chair. “She ain't there. She went out about an hour ago. Looks like she was headed for work. She works part-time as a maid somewhere on the west side.”

  “I see,” Nick said.

  “But who you fellas anyway? I here blurting out Eadie business like I know you or something.”

  “We're L.A.P.D detectives,” Nick replied. They both flashed their steel.

  “Hey, Eadie in some kind of trouble?” The man asked.

  “It's nothing like that Mister…”

  “Ferguson. Rufus Ferguson.”

  “We just need to speak with Miss Larson about a few things,” Nick explained.

  “What things?” Rufus pried.

  “I'm afraid that's confidential, sir,” Nick answered. “But you can rest assured that she’s in no trouble whatsoever. Now would you happen to know if she has a phone contact?”

  “Sure, she does, but I don't know the number. I don't need it, see, since we live side by side like this,” Rufus said.

  Nick slid a card out of his wallet, reached his hand through a gap in the fence and handed it to the man. “Would you do me a favor and ask Miss Larson to give me a call when she gets home?” He asked. “My name's right there on the card.”

  Rufus looked it over. “Will do. I'll give this to Eadie soon as she gets back.”

  EIGHT

  Although relieved that Lisa was back to her old self again, Victor, however, was far from recovery. He felt lost and desperate, and struggled to maintain a daily sense of normalcy.

  As he quietly sipped his coffee at the kitchen table and Netta busied herself at the sink, Tim and Lisa were seated nearby engaged in conversation. Then Lisa's eyes veered to t
he spot where Freda Jennings’ body had been discovered. Feeling the cold chills running up her spine, she struggled to ignore the unnerving thoughts, but failed. Without warning, she picked up her breakfast and headed for the door.

  Curious, Tim asked: “Where are you going?”

  “Anywhere but here,” Lisa answered just before the kitchen door swung behind her.

  Victor sat with elbows on the table, fingers locked beneath his chin, and a blank look in his eyes.

  “Dad, are you all right?” Tim asked. “You don't look so good.”

  “I don't? I thought I looked ravishing for my age,” Victor managed a smile. Then realizing that Tim did not find his remark at all humorous, he said, “It's just that my mind's been on all that work I have to tackle at the office on Monday, that’s all.”

  “You really need to relax, Dad. All that stress isn't good for you.”

  “You're right, Son. I promise I'll take it easy, okay?”

  “Cut your working hours from twelve to six?” Tim diplomatically proposed.

  “Well, maybe not all the way down to six, Son, but I'll definitely try to shave off an hour or two.” Victor reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair.

  With the empty bowl next to her in the living room, Lisa gazed at the television wishing she was a rock star like the one she was watching on the music video. The sound of the telephone nearby had not entered her eardrum until the second ring.

  “Hello…” she answered.

  Silence greeted her.

  “Hello? Are you there?” She repeated just before deciding to hang up.

  Then… “Lisa?” A deep, low voice suddenly answered.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “I’m… I’m… your secret admirer,” was the unanticipated response.

  Lisa forgot about the music video and settled comfortably on the sofa. “My secret admirer? I didn't know I had one. Do I know you from school?”

  “If I tell you who I am, I won't be a secret admirer. Now would I?”

  “Yeah, I guess you're right,” Lisa said after a moment’s thought.

  “I felt drawn to you the instant I laid eyes on you, Lisa - your big blue eyes, luscious lips, your wavy, blonde hair. You're a real gem, Lisa. I want you to know that.”

  Suddenly enveloped in flattery, Lisa asked, “Well, when do I get to meet you?”

  “Soon, my love; very soon.” Then he paused briefly. “I’m sorry, Lisa, but I have to go now. It’s been so great speaking with you for the very first time.”

  “But wait! Before you go, tell me how you got my number. Tell me your name.” But the caller had already hung up, and all Lisa could hear on the other line was the hum of the dial tone.

  “Who was that?” Victor asked with his coffee mug in hand.

  “Oh, just a friend from school,” she said, twisting a few strands of hair, totally surprised by the unexpected phone call. “She was absent on Friday and wanted to find out what we had for homework. She's just a nerd, you know?”

  “Interesting kid,” Victor replied, climbing the stairs.

  Just then, Tim entered the room and slumped onto the sofa next to Lisa. He grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels. Lisa sat quietly, unruffled by her brother’s apparent mischief. Tim steadily increased the volume on the set. Still, Lisa had not noticed, or if she had, did not seem to care.

  “Are you okay, Lise?” He finally asked her.

  She was unresponsive and seemingly off to a secluded world of her own.

  “Lise!” He yelled.

  She looked at him indifferently. “What?”

  “Nevermind,” Tim humbly retreated.

  Lisa stood up, picked up the bowl and glass she had left on the table, and walked into the kitchen. Moments later, Tim watched her head upstairs without uttering another word.

  Lisa plonked herself onto the bed and looked ahead at the bright, blue sky through the open window. Thoughts of the polite caller was quickly beginning to intrigue her.

  * * * *

  In the days since Lisa had spoken with her secret admirer, she had become fairly introverted and withdrawn. Uncertain as to whether her communication with the stranger was good or bad, she kept it a secret from everyone.

  As she sat in front of the computer pulling up research files for History class, the doorbell sounded.

  “I got it!” She heard Tim yell.

  A freckled-faced, red-haired girl appeared on the other side of the door. “Hi, Timmy. Is Lisa home,” she asked politely.

  “Yeah, she's here,” Tim said turning, hoping she would be smart enough to shut the door behind her. “Lise, you got a visitor!” He screamed toward the stairway, then disappeared into the kitchen.

  Kelly sauntered around the living room with hands folded in front of her, viewing photographs she had seen dozens of times before.

  Lisa hurried down the stairs, then on seeing Kelly, slowed down considerably. “Hi, Kel,” she said softly, fighting to hide the fact that she was not thrilled to see her friend.

  “Lisa, why are you avoiding me?” Kelly asked, bluntly. “I thought we were best friends. Best friends don't treat each other the way you've been treating me lately.”

  They both sat down on the couch.

  “I'm not avoiding you, Kel. I'm just spending a lot of time doing homework assignments and studying for upcoming exams. I told you that on the phone.”

  “Homework and studying, huh? I don't think so, Lisa. You rarely ever study for exams and still pass with flying colors. Besides, you don't study for anything I don't study for. We're in the same class, remember? And recently, I haven’t been swamped with homework assignments like you claim to be!”

  Tim emerged from the kitchen with a huge bologna sandwich in his hand and headed out the front door.

  “Kel, you know you are and always will be my best friend. It's just that something really weird has happened to me and I just haven't been able to share it with anyone yet,” Lisa said.

  “Even me?” Kelly asked, surprised.

  “Even you, Kel. I just think it’s best right now to keep it to myself and think about it a little while longer. Later on, I’ll fill you in completely.”

  “What is it, Lisa? What's so secretive about this secret of yours?”

  “I promise I'll tell you, Kel, but not now - only when the time is right,” Lisa replied firmly.

  A couple of hours later, Lisa had just saved her assignment on her computer’s hard-drive and was shutting down when the phone rang. It was him.

  “How’s my little princess doing?” He asked her.

  “I'm fine, thanks,” Lisa replied, sitting upright in the chair, butterflies already in her stomach.

  “I’m really sorry I didn’t get to call you sooner.”

  “Well, why didn’t you?” She asked, a mild tone of disappointment ringing clear.

  “I’ve been busy tending to my mother and all. That’s why I can’t get to see you right now. If I leave and something were to happen to her… well, I'll never forgive myself,” he said.

  “What did you say was ailing your mother?” Lisa asked.

  “She’s got Heart Disease, Rheumatoid Athritis and that’s just the tip of the ice-berg. She can’t get around on her own very well, so I constantly look after her because I don’t want her to be alone – just in case she needs my help.”

  “I'm really sorry about your Mom,” Lisa said. “Do you have any brothers or sisters who can help look after her sometimes?”

  “I’m afraid not. It’s just me and Mom - no one else.”

  “Do you get to attend school?” Lisa probed.

  “I've graduated already,” he replied. “Actually, I'll be twenty-five in a couple of months.”

  “Twenty-five?” Lisa was stunned. She had a feeling he was older, but never imagined he was actually that much older. Silence embraced the phone line as she attempted to collect her thoughts.

  This is definitely a problem, she pondered reluctantly. Even if Dad were to ever co
nsider allowing me to date at my age, it would never be with a twenty-five year-old man.

  “Lisa, is something wrong?” The stranger’s voice broke the silence.

  “Uh… geez, I don’t even know your name,” she said awkwardly.

  “David.”

  Detesting herself for this, she said, “David, I think we ought to end this conversation right this minute.”

  “Why, Lisa? Does my age bother you?” He asked worriedly.

  “Look, you can't even leave your house because of your mother. I don't mean to sound cruel, but maybe it would be best if you forgot about me, at least for now. After all, I'm only fourteen years old. My dad would never approve of such a relationship, and besides, I'm pretty much into my schoolwork right now; final exams are right around the corner.”

  “So, it is because of our age difference,” David returned. “As far as I’m concerned, age is just a number, Lisa; it has nothing to do with whether or not you can love someone. Ask anyone if they don’t agree - anyone, except your father, of course.”

  Lisa giggled.

  “And furthermore,” David continued, “I don’t always have to stay at home and watch my mother’s every move or take her with me everywhere I need to go. In fact, she doesn't actually live here with me full-time. She lives in a nursing home where she's very well cared for. It's just that recently, whenever I visited her, she would complain that she missed home a lot. So, I decided to bring her back home with me for a few weeks. I figured that's the least I could do for the woman who sacrificed everything for me since my dad left us right after I was born. Please Lisa, give me a chance to prove how much you mean to me. Just bear with me for a few more weeks. I promise I won't interfere with your schoolwork and I won't crowd you. I'll keep my distance from your family for as long as you want, but please don’t shut me out.”

  Lisa was deeply moved by David's plea and now slightly convinced that he was right about age not being all that important.

  “All right, David. We’ll do it your way for now, but I’m not promising you that things won’t change in the future,” she said.